


Teach Me What It Means

by imightbejehan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Rating May Change, frequencies au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5605198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imightbejehan/pseuds/imightbejehan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People's lives are dictated by their Frequencies. Their Frequency decides their luck in life, and it cannot be changed. At 14 years old you are Tested and your Frequency is determined, along with the rest of your life.</p><p>Akaashi Keiji has all the luck in the world, but he is missing one thing: his humanity.<br/>Bokuto Koutarou has never been lucky in his life, but he knows what it means to feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What it Means to Be

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah!! I've had this planned for a while - since summer - but didn't get around to writing it. 
> 
> hopefully updating weekly, but with work and college i can't promise anything. 
> 
> let me know if you have any questions on the AU. it's based on a british indie film called Frequencies if you're interested! the basic plot of the movie was good, but the ending was shit so i'll be changing that mwuahaha
> 
> talk to me about hq @ queenofhearts.co.vu

**14 years**

 

   The day of Testing was relatively mundane. Akaashi Keiji woke early, quickly washed his face, kissed his mother on the cheek, grabbed an apple, and promptly left his house at 8:15. He had calculated that at his usual stroll the walk would take about five minutes to get to school, leaving him ten minutes before the Test began to ready his supplies. It was the same routine as always, with the Test being the only deviation.

   It was slightly sunny, the sun only just beginning its climb into the sky, but the air was crisp and the ground was wet from rain the night before. Akaashi, as usual, stepped in no puddles. Cars sped by and splashed the water up from the curbs, but the splash only landed on the people around him.

   He walked through the front door at exactly 8:20, as planned. Without thinking he made his way down the hallways. They were a bit dingy, the white paint yellowing into ivory and the locker’s paint chipping, and Akaashi felt vaguely repulsed by it.

   Straight until the end, then left, ten lockers down then a shortcut through the gymnasium, immediate right, and then walk until room C-3.

   Akaashi had never been there himself, to the Testing room, but he trusted his body to get there on it’s own and had no troubles whatsoever.

   Upon his arrival the proctor immediately placed him into line, directly behind a girl with pale blonde hair. They were nearly at the front and he was tall enough to see over her, not like there was anything to see but the hallway stretching out. As they waited the rest of the kids were sorted into the two lines. Akaashi briefly wondered what time it was, but the proctor called out five more minutes before he could check his watch.

   At approximately 8:27 he felt a tap on his leather clad foot, pulling him from his trance. The offending object was a shiny red apple rested against his penny loafers, which he picked up between his middle finger and thumb to inspect it. It had only one blemish, only one spec of dust that was easily wiped off, and Akaashi debated whether to eat it or not, since he had finished his on the walk to school. But he knew that it belonged to someone already, and he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry. He turned around to scan the lines to find the owner, eyes flickering fast to analyze as much as possible in the few seconds he spent searching. A nervous shuffle, a gulp, and an almost wave told him exactly the culprit.

   The owner was close in height to Akaashi, but his silvery hair spiked up made him seem taller. His cheeks were ablaze as Akaashi handed him the apple, which he figured some might find endearing, but Akaashi thought that it must be annoying to have emotions so obviously displayed.

   At 8:29 the proctor called out time, and the lines filtered into the classroom. Akaashi thought it slightly unprofessional to be running ahead of schedule, but he figured that it was better than being late.

   “Alright class,” the proctor called out as she watched the class fill their assigned seats. “I’m sure your teachers have already given you instructions on the test, so I will not waste my time repeating them, other than what I must. You will have 30 minutes. Once you are done you can set your pencil down on your desk, but you are prohibited to move until time is called and i collect your Tests. You may begin.”

   Collectively the class fell silent as they tied the provided blindfolds onto their heads, and soon the only sound Akaashi could hear was the faint scribble of graphite against the paper and the pages flipping.

 

   “Remember, do not open your envelope until you are safely home,” the proctor waited for a hum of agreement from the class before continuing. “You are now dismissed.”

   As tradition, the 14 year olds did not open their Testing envelopes, but they did know that if one held it up outside in just the right light and position one could see the Frequency score perfectly through the paper encasing it.

   All around him Akaashi could hear numbers being called out in excitement or worry. He could hear jealous “congratulations” or unsentimental “well it’s not that bad” echoing from his classmates, but he could not join in. With boredom clearly written on his face, he lifted his own envelope to the sky and peered at the number written in.

   “Oh, what did the great Akaashi get that has him looking soo dejected?” A voice asked from beside him. He turned to see the owner belonged to one of his classmates, Oikawa he believed. The brunet smiled in a way that was different from his normal sneer.

 _Oh_ , Akaashi thought, watching Oikawa’s face closely, _he’s nervous._

   “A 120.”

   Oikawa’s eyes widened and he took a step back in shock, but he quickly schooled his emotions and his sneer made it’s comeback. “Liar! Everyone knows you can’t score above 100.”

   “Here,” Akaashi said calmly, handing his envelope off to the other boy, “I see no reason for lying. See for yourself.”

   A small crowd gathered around Oikawa, drawn in by his loud comments. He held it up, tilting the paper to catch the light just right… and the crowd gasped loudly. Every eye turned to stare at Akaashi, the kid with the highest score.

   Remembering an overheard conversation, Akaashi plastered a smile on and tilted his head slightly. “I’m honestly so lucky, it could have been soo much worse.”

   Oikawa made a face and opened his mouth to make what Akaashi assumed to be a nasty remark, but he was interrupted by another classmate with horrendous bedhead dragging someone into their circle.

   “No way! You got a 120? This kid got a 0!” The bedhead boy, who Akaashi discovered was Kuroo through the whispers in the crowd, held up the hand of the other boy he had dragged in like he was the winner of a boxing match. Immediately everyone’s eyes turned to him instead.

   The boy hung his head to hide his face, but the silvery hair was a dead give away.

   “Isn’t that crazy!” Kuroo continued. “What an anomaly!”

   “Ah, it’s really not that crazy, bro. There was probably just a mistake in the Test-” The silver boy tried.

   “The Test doesn’t make mistakes,” Akaashi piped in helpfully.

   “Wonder what’ll happen if they touch!” Oikawa called, looking between the two.

   Akaashi checked his watch, then took a step forward. Everyone but the 0 took a step back.

   “Akaashi Keiji.” He extended his hand, and after a moment the other boy took it.

   “Bokuto Koutarou.”

   They stayed like that, hands gently clasped until a crack of thunder startled them apart. The sky split in half and rained poured down directly, and perfectly, on Bokuto.

 

   When Akaashi entered his house he went directly into his father’s office. He sat there in his oversized maroon velvet chair reading the newspaper. Work had been canceled for all families with children Testing, a family holiday of sorts, so as soon as Keiji had entered the office his father put down his paper and turned his full attention to his son. Keiji wasted no time putting the unopened envelope into his father’s waiting hand.

   The old man opened it slowly, with shaking hands as if it was the most important news of his life. Which, Akaashi supposed, it probably was. His father stiffened as he read the nmber out, eyes flashing up to Keiji. He could read the question in his eyes before his father could even ask.

   “I’m really lucky, it could have been soo much lower.”

 

**14 years, one week later**

 

   “We’re so honored to have your son at our school, and we hope he will choose to continue his education here. Your son has the highest Frequency heard of so far, and so we would be honored to nurture his brilliance to his full potential.”

   “What does that mean, necessarily?” Akaashi’s mother asked, glancing between her son and the principal.

   “Well, we would be placing him in environments with other High Frequency children, and make sure he is fully challenged with his studies. To insure that we would graduate him to the grade above-”

   “But what about making friends and meeting other people who are… different than Keiji?”

   “Oh, but Mrs. Akaashi, he doesn’t need friends with such a High Frequency.”


	2. What it Means to Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, this chaptr took me longer than I expected.
> 
> also about the au:  
> they are all in the same grade/year

15 years

 

   Akaashi stood on the school lawn in his school issued slacks and jumper, not noticing the chill in the air as the season’s changed from fall into winter. He watched the grassy fields move in waves with the breeze, only pausing to look at his watch in a way that could be misconstrued as excitement as much as impatience. 

   He had been waiting nearly a half an hour, hands and cheeks reddened, when Akaashi heard his name being called from further up the lawn. He turned slowly and elegantly, as if time waited only for him, to watch Bokuto bound up to him. He stopped about 5 feet away.

   It was obvious effort had been put into the boy’s hair, but after a day of mishaps at school it was in a spiky disarray. His tie was tied wrong, shirt half out of his own issued slack that claimed about 5 different food stains on the legs, and his cheeks were flushed from his energetic sprint from the school. But, Akaashi noted, his gold eyes were wide and sparkling. 

   “H-hey, Akaashi,” Bokuto quipped. Akaashi had the image of a baby bird flash across his mind. 

   Instead of a response, Akaashi held up one finger for a pause. The other boy immediately clamped his mouth shut. Akaashi searched through his backpack and after a moment pulled out a crisp, new composition notebook. 

   “Alright. Shall we begin?”

   Bokuto nodded his approval and the two boys stepped forward at the same time until the distance between them was reduced into what Akaashi had decided was amicable. 

   They did not speak as Akaashi checked his watch, or even after he looked up again. He watched Bokuto’s eyes as they roamed his own face, unable to hold still for long. Every few seconds a grey eyebrow would twitch. Akaashi filed that in his mind to write down. 

   Bokuto was shifting and blushing, something he had not done the first time the two had stood like this almost a year before. He also gnawed at his bottom lip, opening and closing his mouth a few times before actually speaking. 

   “Uh, so aren’t cha gonna write anything down?”

   “I thought that would be rude of me for our first official meeting.”

   “Oh, uh, well I don’t think it would be rude really…” 

   Akaashi waited a moment for any continuation but the other boy trialed off. “If that is so, I hope you don’t mind if I begin next time. We are nearly out of time.” 

   “Is that-”

   As if on cue the two boy’s names were called across the lawn. Bokuto whirled around, edges blurring, to catch sight of their distressed principal trying to run across the manicured grass in her heels. Akaashi leaned to the side to peer over Bokuto’s shoulder. 

   “You two! Get away from each other this instant!” 

   Akaashi hesitated, but a quick glance at his wrist told him that it was time to wrap up anyways. He took two steps back. Bokuto followed suit. In the distance an airplane could be heard flying closer and closer, until it was right above. Akaashi took one last step back, and in between the two boys a shard of metal pierced the ground. 

   Bokuto took off running back to the school, a trail of airplane parts following in his wake. 

   “You!” The principal began, but cut off when she saw Akaashi’s blank stare in her direction. Her silence lasted but a breath before she gathered her resolve again. “I cannot believe you two, you especially young man! People with such different Frequencies will offset the balance and nature will try to correct itself. You are putting innocent lives at risk for these childish games. Stick to people in a decent Frequency range, Akaashi.”

   He turned his lips into a smile. “Sorry m’am. It was just curiosity.”

 

16 years    
  


   Looking in the window of a darkened classroom Keiji tousled his hair slightly, deliberately setting stands out of place. Next he moved on to his uniform, loosening his tie until he was able to unbutton the top two buttons on his starched white shirt. He left his blazer buttoned. 

   By the time Bokuto had rounded the corner to join Akaashi, the latter already had his composition book out, flipping through the pages with a pen perched between his lips. When he looked up Bokuto’s cheeks were red. A blush that spread to the tips of his ears. Akaashi scribbled a note in his book. 

   “Hello Bokuto.”

   “Hi Akaashi.” 

   “How was your day?” Akaashi tilted his head as he spoke, exposing more of his neck. Bokuto followed the curve back up to his face. 

   “I-it was really good actually! I mean I did get accused of cheating for the third time this year so far but the teacher felt kinda bad for me and didn’t completely fail me, so I got a C instead! I think my luck might be changing y’know.”

   “You know Frequencies can’t change, Bokuto,” Keiji said as he scribbled. 

   “Ah. Right.” He shuffled. “So how was your day?’

   “Normal. But that is not important.”

   “I was wondering,” Bokuto paused, shuffling his feet again and itching the back of his neck, “if we could, like, make this a bit more mutual?”

   Akaashi looked up from his notebook. “I thought we agreed that I could examine what it was like for a Low Born, and how our differing Frequencies worked together.”

   “Yeah, but like it’s gotta be boring to only hear about me yknow?”

   “Not necessarily.” 

   “Oh.” Bokuto’s deep blush returned. “Well then-”

   “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it looks like we will have to continue this conversation next time.” Keiji nodded to the floor, where smoke was seeping out from the classroom door. A few seconds later the alarm began to ring, proving his point. 

   “I’ll see you in a year!” The silver boy called as he ran down the hall and out of sight. 

 

17 years

 

   Akaashi had only been waiting in the school gardens for five minutes when Bokuto sprinted in. In the distance dogs barked madly. 

   “I was wondering,” he said before Keiji could speak, “if we could try, like, touching.” 

   “Touching?” Bokuto blushed hard when Akaashi repeated his question, and began waving his hands around. 

   “Not like, cause I want to - though I do! - but like, for the experiment, yknow? To uh, figure out what happens?” 

   “We can’t.”

   Bokuto’s face immediately dropped from his nervous excitement into a sort of depression.  

   “It’s - it’s not that I don’t want to,” Akaashi waited for Bokuto to look up from his feet to turn his own head and brush a hair behind his ear. “There are just too many variables. We’ve never touched before so we don’t know what could happen.” 

   “Oh! I get what you mean!” 

   Over the years of meeting up with Bokuto, Akaashi had gotten used to the boy’s rapid mood swings and had realized that it was a side effect from his low Frequency number. It had been proven by doctors long ago that the lower the Frequency and less luck, the more strongly emotions could be felt. Or more quickly they could span the range. 

   Their minute came to a halt as the dog’s howling drew closer and Bokuto took his leave, but not without shouting behind him as he ran. 

   “Next year I have something to ask you!” 

 

18 years - Graduation day 

 

   For the first time Akaashi Keiji stood on the school lawn in something other than his laundered school uniform. No longer would he have to wear the stiff white shirts or scratchy pants. And he felt neither sadness nor excitement at this fact. 

   The graduation ceremony had gone off without a hitch, albeit slowly. The seats were arranged from high to low, with Akaashi in the front most seat and Bokuto in the back for extra safety. Akaashi walked up the stage to receive his diploma to a thunderous applause. All his teachers tried to get the last congratulations in, in hopes that he would favor them and his luck would maybe rub off. Bokuto tripped on his way up the stairs and sneezed on the principal, but the laughter from the crowd and students had been mixed with cheers of encouragement. Akaashi had clapped along, and when Bokuto sought out his eyes in the mass of students his only response was a curt nod. 

   After the ceremony Keiji had thanked his family for coming, politely returned congratulations to his classmates, and posed for pictures when prompted, but slipped away quietly with the excuse of forgetting something in the school. And there he waited for his yearly meeting with Bokuto. 

   It was a comfortable ten minutes before the silver boy showed up. Akaashi wanted for neither a cooler breeze or warmer weather, and the screaming of the families was just far enough away to sound like a calming hum. But Bokuto broke through the calm like he always did, bashing through like a wrecking ball and stirring Keiji from his thoughts. 

   “Sorry - I’m late - I - had - to - grab - something from - my - locker!” Bokuto’s sentence came out stilted and awkward, almost every word punctuated by a heavy pant. 

   “That’s okay.” Akaashi had never expected him on time to begin with. “What did you need to ask me?” 

   “You remembered! Well actually,” Bokuto shuffled, and a crinkling noise came from behind his back where he had his hands, “Akaashi Keiji, I was wondering if you would go out with me?” 

   At this he whipped a bouquet of roses out from behind his back, causing a few of the blooms to fall off. 

   “We’ve graduated now, so we won’t have those teachers and everyone trying to stop us from meeting up like this so-”

   “No.”

   The flowers nearly fell from Bokuto’s hands at Akaashi’s voice. It was only a second before you weakly repeated, “No?”

   “You see, I have no feelings for you whatsoever. Or really feelings at all. I merely proposed these meetings to examine you, who feels such a wide range to examine what it is like.” 

   “But you smile all the time, and you said so many things…” 

   “I was pretending. See, every smile, every laugh, every sad moment you’ve seen has been a lie. I feel nothing towards you. I feel nothing towards the people who call me their friend. I feel nothing towards my own parents. 

   This is what they call the side effect of high Frequency. Life will hand me everything I could ever want, so there is no need to feel jealousy, anxiety, or even love. I staged every meeting, every moment I did something that could be considered flirting or friendly was a mimicry of others I have seen around me to test myself if I could fool others. That was the real experiment, Bokuto. And it looks like it was a success.” 

   Bokuto left without a word, knowing his time was already up he running down the green grassy hill to his friends, leaving the bouquet of wilting roses on the ground where they had fallen at Akaashi’s feet sometime during his reveal. 

   Somewhere behind Akaashi he could hear his name being called. He practiced flashing a smile towards the sky before turning around to answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh poor bokuto! i would say sorry for the angsty chapter but i'm really not. 
> 
> talk to me abt hq!! or cats or owls or throw a stick at me! 
> 
> queenofhearts.co.vu url is ace-keiji


	3. What it Means to Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's five years later and the two are moving on with their lives the best they can, but the universe cannot keep their paths from crossing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bit rough to write, but the next one will be so much fun *wiggles eyebrows* 
> 
> important notes at the end!!

**21 years**

 

   The rain was creating a mist that blanketed the city. It muffled and dulled the usual sounds of the city, further emphasized by the little amount of people out and about. Akaashi Keiji walked through the wet streets, hard soled shoes making no noise with his graceful steps. He had been stopped multiple times throughout his life and asked if he had been a dancer, but his confidence and lightness came not from years of training, but a lack of attachment to the Earth. A lack of worry and care that only Keiji could have. 

   The cars stopped in the street for him to cross without stopping. The train pulled up at the station exactly as he stepped up to the chipped yellow line painted before the tracks. There was no crowd in the train. The perfect amount of people occupied the car, allowing Keiji to have an open seat. 

   This was his daily life now, a routine that he knew without thinking. His alarm never failed, his train was never late nor early, and more often than not there was a crisp $10 bill on the crowd when he walked to the store. 

   The routine was never boring, Keiji’s lack of understanding on the concept assured that, but he did know that it was missing something. Something he could not quite place. 

   On weekdays this routine finished with a night spent reading, with no interruptions, but this Thursday night was not the case. 

   “Surprise!” A mass of voices cheered when Keiji flipped on his living room lights. “Happy Birthday!” 

   Within seconds he had his carefully practiced ‘surprise’ expression on his face and a hand to his chest. “For me?” 

   “Of course, Keiji,” his mother called as she stepped out from behind the couch to pat his shoulder - the maximum physical contact she would give him. “We don't know any other December 5th birthdays do we?” 

   After a nod of affirmation, the crowd led Akaashi to the small backyard they had repurposed for the gathering. Though the weather was wet and cold, with snow on the horizon, they had been able to create a cozy atmosphere complete with a fire to warm by and fairy lights strung from the posts of the porch. He was brought to the fire and a thick woolen blanket draped over his shoulders before his guests crowded around to have a word with him. 

   He found the conversation as dull as always, almost more so with the focus centered on himself. Happy birthday, they said. Thank you, he said. How has life been after university, they said. To be expected, he said. Unfailingly they laughed every time, filling in the unknown with their own experiences. Keiji had figured how to maneuver conversations quickly when he was young; that humans automatically care much more for themselves than others, so to emerge quickly and easily from unnecessary chatting he would draw from what others wanted to hear and played off the holes in stories that they would fill with their own ideas. 

   Thankfully, after about an hour of this, Kozume Kenma made his way over to his side. Kenma was the only human Akaashi considered, in any sense, to be a friend. The boy was also a High Born, with a Frequency somewhere in the 80’s, though Keiji never asked and Kenma never offered up his number. He, like Keiji, preferred to be quiet and undisturbed so they had quickly worked out a mutual companionship that soothed both their parent’s worries and created a barrier between them and unwanted attention, for others were often intimidated by the two together. 

   “Happy birthday,” Kenma whispered after he had settled down into the stiff wicker chair. 

   “Thank you.” 

   “Sorry bout the party. Your parent’s wanted it to be a surprise.” 

   “It’s no problem,” Akaashi said, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. And it wasn’t a problem; through the years his parent’s had taken every opportunity to draw emotion from their child, so he had almost expected something like a surprise party to happen. 

   His mother had decided that he was missing something from a young age. Akaashi knew it as well. He did not connect with peers at all in elementary school, more often than not he was making them cry from something he said. He had not known why the others had been so easily upset by the truth in his words, or why they cried when something went wrong until he reached junior high. There he had watched the interactions of others, learning about the wide range of emotions others had. He was never impressed by the snot dripping from a classmate’s nose after crying over another failure or the snorting laughs from another that could carry on for over five minutes. Yet, Keiji couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to truly feel; to feel a connect to those around him. 

   “Not that it really matters, but I guess I should warn you.” 

   “About?” Akaashi turned his gaze from the fire to Kenma. The smaller boy had his faced turned towards the fire as well, the flames lit up half of his face but shadowed the rest. Keiji could not figure out what his expression meant. 

   “Well, I saw Kuro earlier.”

   Akaashi hummed in response. Kuroo didn't often come when Akaashi was invoked, but he was still close to Kenma after growing up together so it was really not that strange for him to show up to events that Keiji was also at. There was an underlying meaning behind that statement, but Kenma never got the chance to continue. 

   “Ah. Hey, Akaashi. Been a long time eh?” 

   When Keiji turned around towards the voice, he found the meaning. 

   “Bokuto.” 

   The man in question rubbed the back of his neck, and Keiji could see a slight blush high on his cheeks. He supposed somethings just don’t change. But then again, some things do. Bokuto had grown - not only in height but in muscle.

   “Happy birthday.” His voice sounded deeper as well, but Akaashi wondered if it was the years apart. 

   “Thank you.” 

   There was a beat of silence.

   “How are you?” Bokuto asked, shuffling slightly closer. He was now an arms length away. 

   “Actual question or a greeting?” Akaashi responded, drawing a genuine smile from the other boy. The phrase had been like a joke between the two about how little the both of them cared for small talk, but it had slipped out of Keiji’s mouth without thinking it through. 

   “Question.”

   “I’m the same as always.” 

   Bokuto smiled like he knew something Akaashi didn’t. “I’m not. Y’know, after we graduated I spent a lot of time travelling and learned a lot.”

   “Oh? And where did this traveling take you?”

   “Kinda all over. Places like, uh…” A pause. The shuffle of feet. “Chigawa.”

   “Chigawa? I’ve never heard of it.”

   “Yeah it’s like a third world place it’s not very well known.”

   “And what kinds of things did you learn in this Chigawa?” Akaashi asked. His body had started to feel strange as he kept up the banter with Bokuto, and his mind was running at a wild pace trying to find the word to fit it. 

   Bokuto took another step closer and leaned in to whisper. “I learned how to change my number.” 

   “But that’s impossible!” 

   “I can’t explain it all right now. Meet me tomorrow and Saint Cafe at noon - I’ll explain everything there.”

   “Why should I believe you? How could you, a 0 do what so many high Frequencies could never do?” 

   “I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” the silver boy smirked, backing away to make his leave, “but you might wanna check your watch, Akaashi.” 

   He glanced down at his wrist and watched the second hand tick by on his watch. Vaguely Keiji heard a glass shatter next to his feet, but it did not draw his attention away from his wrist. 

   The conversation had been well over their allotted minute of time. 

_    Oh _ , Keiji thought,  _ this is excitement _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes on this chapter:  
> 1\. keiji actually graduated university in 3 years  
> 2\. bokuto is a giant beefcake and has hella nice arms  
> 3\. i wish i had left honorifics in this story like i originally planned. imagine akaashi seeing bokuto for the first time in years and saying, all breathy, "oh... bokuto-san" ... damn..   
> 4\. i wish i could write a lot of their interactions in japanese because the tones and subtle changes in each person's unique way of saying things. like. bokuto, instead of "been a long time, eh?" it's ひしぶりねっ? damn this kid would talk so casual to akaashi 
> 
> ALSO! I would like to apologize for the wait on this chapter, university life is killing me and i've been in a bit of a rough state. 
> 
> as always: find me at my tumblr queenofhearts.co.vu
> 
> I actually have fic commissions going on right now if you are interested!! 
> 
> link here: http://queenofhearts.co.vu/post/138618815060/fic-commissions-just-in-time-for-valentines-day


	4. What it Means to Feel

   The Saint Cafe was never very popular, so even during the peak of lunchtime rush there were plenty of open tables for Akaashi to pick from. He chose carefully. A table for two against the window that would give the two plenty of sunlight without a glare in their eyes, and just separated enough that they could speak in relative privacy. 

   If nothing but eccentric, he supposed the cafe was cozy inside. The paintings hung around on the walls did not match each other, and even the color palettes of their own didn’t match, but they weren’t too troublesome to look at. The dimmed lights also helped counter the bright mismatched art works. Each chair had a velvety cushion on top of the wicker seat, and while they looked old they were much more comfortable than Akaashi had originally thought. Looking around, he could tell exactly why Bokuto had picked this spot. 

   After his eyes wandered around the cafe they settled on a couple sitting in the back corner. They were sitting on opposite sides of a booth, but were leaning in close to speak in hushed tones. They’re hands were gripping each other tightly, but Keiji got the impression that it was not enough for the two. 

   “Akaashi.” Bokuto’s voice was soft and breathy, but enough to draw Akaashi’s gaze from the couple to focus on the boy joining him. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.” 

   Keiji force his smile onto his face and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted quickly by Bokuto. 

   “Don’t force yourself, it’s just me yknow. Just do me one thing and tell me what’s going through that head of yours.”

_    He’s kind _ , Keiji mused.  _ Even after all I put him through _ .

   “I’m still the robot,” he voiced instead. “I still get through the days by faking everything, but the more I watch and examine the people around me the more I realizing they’re just faking it too.”

   “Do you want a way out?”

   “There is no way out, Bokuto.” 

   “But I found it! If there is no way out then how am I here talking to you like this?” A beat of silence. Akaashi had no answer. “I can show you if you’re willing.”

   “Yes.” He answered without thinking, his voice just came out, but he realized that he did not want to take it back. 

   A low rumbling came from outside as the already cloudy sky started to darken. 

   Bokuto placed his hands on the table, palms up. 

   “You might not like this, Akaashi.” 

   “Get on with it.”

   The silver haired boy let out a sigh. When Akaashi studied his face for a clue, he found the boy was blushed lightly. 

   “So basically it’s an energy exchange. We balance out our Frequencies by you releasing energy into me. But, uh, the only way to really do this is through touch.”

   “Of course,” Akaashi hummed. 

   Bokuto’s blush worsened, and he coughed and mumbled something under his breath that Keiji couldn’t quite hear. 

   “Continue,” he pressed.

   “There’s a feedback loop of negative energy right? Well, it eventually gets balanced out if we are close for a long enough time. But we do have to be touching.” 

   “How long until I start feeling the results?”

   “It should be instant.” Upon seeing the doubt on Akaashi’s face, Bokuto continued. “You know you want to do it! I know you want-”

   “Stop creating scenarios in your head.”

   “But imagine!” Bokuto was raising his voice now. A nug smashed somewhere behind them. “For the first time in your life being able to feel something!” 

   “According to your theories. We don’t know that this will work.” 

   “Akaashi, take this step with me. I really think I can help you.”

   Another, louder rumble shook the building, causing Keiji to immediately throw his hands into Bokuto’s. 

   “Let’s finish this.” 

   Bokuto flinched at the impact of Keiji’s cold skin, but instead of letting go he quickly grasped them. They stared at their hands, connected for the first time. Akaashi briefly thought about the fact that Bokuto was one of the few people he has ever touched in his life. 

   But nothing happened. 

   “Is that all?” 

   “I mean, that’s the main part yeah. It might not work.” 

   More silence. Akaashi fidgeted. Bokuto’s hands were slightly sweaty in his own. 

   “It’s weird talking to you without a time limit.” Akaashi looked up at Bokuto’s words, whispered so softly. He didn’t know how to respond, but Bokuto filled the silence with rambling. 

   After a moment though, Akaashi found he couldn’t focus. He could hear something pounding in his ears, but couldn’t find the source of it. His eyes roamed the room, scanning the people. The couple in the corner drew his attention again, but one looked up this time, his dark brown eyes meeting Keiji’s. There was a sense of recognition and familiarity behind them. Keiji shivered. The grip on his hand grew tighter. 

   “Are you okay?” 

   Keiji turned to face Bokuto again. It took him a moment to speak. “I- I don’t feel very well.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “I feel sick.” Bokuto started to draw his hands away, but Akaashi latched on to them tighter. “No. That’s not it.” 

   There was something spreading through his body. It was crawling up his limbs to his heart - or no wait - it was seeping out from his heart. Something like fingers tracing his veins but then they would reach the back of his neck and dig their fingernails in slightly. He looked around again, feeling eyes on him everywhere. The boy in the back glanced up at him again. He must know him. He must be-

   “Keiji.” He was shook by his first name, gaze returning to Bokuto. “Akaashi, I think… I think you’re feeling something.” 

   “Is this.. Is this what it’s always like?” 

   “What do you mean?”

   “It’s so… Awful.” Bokuto laughed, loud and hardy, hands slipping slightly out of Keiji’s grasp, but the brunet lunged forward to keep contact. “It’s so heavy inside. It’s like I’m finally grounded.” 

   “Here, let’s try this,” Bokuto whispered gently as he pried his hands from Akaashi. “How does that feel?”

   An overwhelming longing to be connected through those calloused hands filled Keiji, but this time instead of forcing it he gently reached to slide his fingers around the silver boy’s wrist. “Even worse. It feels better when I’m touching you. Why?” 

   Another rumble, worse than the two before shook a table and knocked another cup to the floor. Akaashi moved to pick it up, but Bokuto coughed something under his breath and drew his attention back. 

   “I think, maybe, you could maybe love me.” 

   Akaashi didn’t have time to respond to Bokuto’s theory before the building was shaking again in what seemed like the aftershocks of an earthquake. 

   “Ah this has got me nostalgic,” Keiji voiced instead of his confusion. Bokuto was less focused on him now. Instead he was looking about the room wildly, his eyes were wide and, Keiji noted, scared. “What should we do?”

   Bokuto was mumbling gibberish under his breath, but he stopped to focus on Keiji’s voice, picking up on the slight tremor behind it. “I think it should mellow out the longer we are together. It should.”

   “I know what we should do.” It was a split second decision. Akaashi didn’t know fully what he was doing, but he saw Bokuto’s anxiety and after feeling something for the first time himself he had to act. He had to fix it. 

   He grabbed the back of Bokuto’s head and smashed their lips together in a kiss.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I'm going to be setting up a weekly or every other week schedule! That way I can hopefully get on a better schedule for updating this fic. It's been so much fun to write. 
> 
> and in other news... who's ready for a rating change?? ;) i'm also thinking about introducing at least two side pairings to this. one has been planned from the start. 
> 
> as always, I appreciate you all taking the time for reading this and giving feedback. it really means the world to me
> 
> queenofhearts.co.vu   
> url is oikawaspain


	5. What it Means to be Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an extra long chapter for you guys! hope you enjoy!

18 years - Graduation Day

 

   There was nothing going through Bokuto Koutarou’s mind as he sprinted down the grassy hill. His friends waited eagerly at the base, but behind him was all that he wanted. All that he wanted that was not within his grasp. But within his grasp was Kuroo Testurou, who immediately drew his friend into his arms when Bokuto came into his reach. 

   It was then that Bokuto realized it wasn’t nothing that he was feeling, but the numbness that followed his complete devastation. 

   “Bro, bro! Koutarou, what happened?” Kuroo whispered into his hair, quickly adjusting to the weight clinging to his chest. 

   “I’m a fucking idiot.” 

   Kuroo sent a look to his right, where Kenma stood pretending to play his gameboy and watching the two taller boys out of the corner of his eye. Kenma nodded briefly before turning on his heel to return to the graduation after party, leaving the two alone. 

   “Yeah I know you’re an idiot,” Kuroo looked up the hill towards Akaashi Keiji. “I’m an idiot too.”

 

19 years

 

   “I’m telling you, we can do it!” 

   “Bro, you’re telling me I can do it.” 

   Bokuto waved a hand in Kuroo’s direction, waving off his comment. “Semantics, bro.” He leaned in closer. “But I think we can do it. You can’t test it without me afterall.” 

   The messy brunet rolled his eyes in response, but nevertheless nodded his head and agreed. 

   This haphazard decision made on the stained couch in Kuroo’s refurbished attic brought the two to gather all the research ever done on Frequencies and pour over them for weeks straight. 

   “I’m telling you, we can do it,” Bokuto repeated for the fifth time that day. 

   “Please kindly shut the fuck up,” Kuroo’s voice called from where his head was shoved between the couch cushions. He was sitting on the floor, where he had been sitting for five hours while exhaustion overtook him. “We’ve been going at this for - you know what I don’t ever know how long - but nothing’s happening. You gotta face the facts, bro.”

   “Bro, broo… You didn’t hear it though. You didn’t see his face when he said ‘I-”

   “I feel nothing towards you. I feel nothing blahh blah blah. I don’t need to have been there because you’ve told me two thousand times. Bokuto. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe that’s what he wants? Maybe he doesn’t want to change his Number?” 

   “Buuuttt,” Koutarou moaned as he slid from the wicker chair to the floor, “why would he have done the experiment if he didn’t wanna change anything?”

   “Curiosity?”

   Bokuto groaned again, but slid the crumbled research materials back into their folders for a break.

 

20 years

  “Dude I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. They’re gonna start questioning the interns soon.”

   “But bro, you’re the best liar I know! It’ll be fine.” 

   Kuroo watched Bokuto pop the day’s pill into his mouth and swallow it dry. “If only that was as comforting as you meant it to be.” 

   “Just a little bit longer. I know we’ll have it soon!” 

   As soon as Kuroo picked up an internship at the local research facility Bokuto had jumped on the chance. Kuroo was up close and personal with the latest Frequency research, and had been able to tell him about the drugs they were testing. They tested nonstop, creating several new pills and concoctions a week, but they never had any positive results. But Bokuto was sure that if you mixed a few together.. BAM! 

   “I don’t want to be Mr. Downer, but if the lab isn’t getting any results then why would we? A couple of Low Frequencies?” 

   Koutarou put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You aren’t a Low Frequency you’re just perfect, bro. Which is why if anyone can do it you can.” 

   “Oh piss off you suck up,” Kuroo replied, brushing off the hand and rolling his eyes. But his refusal didn’t last long, and he quickly moved to a clunky machine that sat on the desk next to him. 

   It was outdated technology in the research field; at least five years old. Bokuto often called it The Calculator, which in way way was partially true, even if he only created the nickname because the device looked like a calculator from the early seventies. It had a mass of buttons with different terms abbreviated on top of them in what was once bright white but was now half worn off, a small screen towards the top, and a sensor bar at the top edge. It was one of the first Frequency Readers ever created, and was quickly replaced by advances in technology. Yet for Bokuto and Kuroo it served it’s purpose. 

   Kuroo turned it on and pressed a few buttons, setting it to react it there was a change in Number in the room. And the wait began. 

 

   “Ah, are you still at it?” Kenma asked, interrupting Bokuto’s sleep and Kuroo’s reading. 

   “Kenma save meee. He’s a slave driver.” 

   “Shut up, Kuroo,” Bokuto grumbled as he stretched, “you wanna figure this out as much as I do.” 

   Kuroo looked up to Kenma, who met his eyes with a squint. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true. Like bro, I wanna help you but this is almost bordering on obsession. We’ve been at this for weeks now and nothing’s changed.” 

   “It’s something that needs to be done, and I mean, there’s no better way to get it done than to power through the problem and find a solution as quick as possible? This could change lives, and no one seems to think it’s important enough.” 

   “Don’t you mean change one particular life?” Kenma asked, not looking up from the game on his phone now.

   “I just. I need to do this guys.” 

   Kuroo moved to put his hand on his friend’s arm, gently drawing patterns. “We know, and you know I’ve been here for you this whole time and I’m not gonna bow out now. But… Who are you doing this for Bokuto?” 

   “What do you mean? Of course I’m doing this for Akaashi and everyone who wants to change their Number.” 

   “Have you even asked Akaashi? From what Kenma says he’s living a very good life. If we succeed we would change all of that.” 

   “Of course he wants to change it!” 

   Kuroo poked Kenma with his foot repeatedly, encouraging the smaller boy to speak up. 

   “The universe works to give Keiji everything he wants. His life is perfect. He’s lucky to have such a High Frequency.” 

   “Who says his life is perfect? He’s missing out on actually having a life! He’s not really living!” 

   “Who get’s to say if he is or not?” 

 

21 years

 

   Kuroo slammed his book closed. As if on cue, Bokuto slouched down on the floor at the sound. Both boys leaned their heads back, stretching their aching necks. 

   “I say that’s it for tonight.”

   Bokuto groaned in response. 

   They sat there in silence, with the heavy relief of two college students who finished a final exam. Neither moved, just sat slumped until Kenma returned from the kitchen with an applesauce cup in his hand. Bokuto made grabby hands as the smaller boy passed, but Kenma swiftly moved the cup to the other side of his body to avoid the hands. He moved to Kuroo, shoving parts of Kuroo’s body with his foot until there was a perfect place for him to curl up into. 

   After their stillness was interrupted, the boys began to move, albeit minisculey. Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma and dropped his head onto the other’s, looking like he was ready to fall asleep at anytime. Koutarou on the other hand, while feeling just as exhausted from pouring over research and creating algorithms with Kuroo, could only focus on his frustration. He couldn’t help but think that at this snail pace, they might never solve the Frequency problem. 

   He pulled out his phone to scroll through the internet and avoid any unnecessarily negative thoughts, and opened up Vine. Most of the people on Vine had really misfortunate things happen to them that ended up being funny, but it was more of a comfort to him. Knowing that there were others out there Low like he was. 

   The first few weren’t very funny. More and more Viners were just starting to use the app as a way to promote their youtube videos - which he thought was lame. Soon though, Bokuto saw that one of his favorite Viners, BatDad, had updated a few times since he had last looked. He usually just ran around teasing his kids while wearing a shitty batman mask and doing the voice while his wife looked on angrily. 

   As he played the vine a faint beep sounded in the room, but Bokuto couldn’t tell what it was from. He replayed the vine, and around the same spot the beep happened again. It hadn’t sounded like it was supposed to be in the video, but it repeatedly came at the same time, so he chalked it up as his phone being weird. That was until Kuroo suddenly jumped up. 

   “Holy! Holy shit!” Kuroo ran to a stack of papers and pulled The Calculator out from underneath them. It hummed slightly with energy. He brought it closer to Bokuto and held it next to him. “Bro, play that again.”

   Koutarou hit play one last time, and this time the beep was not soft nor distant, but right next to him; coming from The Calculator as it read a Frequency change. 

   “Oh my god,” he whispered, slowly reaching out to take The Calculator into his shaking hands. “That’s it. It’s gotta be sound.” 

   “We did it. Bokuto, oh my god we did it! Well I mean, there are still so many variables but-” Kuroo reached for his friend and slapped his hands on either side of his face, “we fucking did it, bro!” 

   Bokuto leapt into action, moving to an old school’s blackboard they had snagged from a yard sale and leaned against the wall. He erased everything, months and years worth of work and theories the two had compiled - gone. But it didn’t matter to him. He had found the answer. 

   “You don’t know if it lowers anyone’s Number though, and,” Kenma peered at The Calculator’s screen in Kuroo’s hands, “it looks like it’s temporary anyways.” 

   “But at least we have an actual solid theory,” Kuroo piped in before he could see his friend get too upset. 

   Bokuto stood at the board, staring at the emptiness of it now. In the middle he wrote one word. 

_ SOUND _

   The three stared at the white letters for a minute before Bokuto finally spoke.

   “That’s gotta be it.” 

   “What is?”

   “I mean our experiments. Akaashi and I hardly actually spoke, so maybe that’s why we never hit the right sound. And y’know what else we never did?” A pause. A breath. “Touch.”

   “Well it could cause too big of a feedback in the universe and it would do what it always does to balance to Frequencies, and maybe even quicker than normal… But, it could work. This whole thing is crazy, but it could work.” 

   “How would you even get Akaashi to touch Bokuto if they haven’t seen each other in years, much less talked,” Kenma stated, heading back to the spot he had been curled up with Kuroo moments ago. Bokuto felt like eternity had passed in the five minutes since their discovery. 

   “His birthday.” Kuroo stepped up to the board, taking the chalk from Bokuto’s hand. He began sketching a timeline. “Kenma you said his birthday is in December right? I know his parent’s talk to you sometimes to check up on him, so put the idea in their heads to have a party for his birthday this year. We could easily get in without anyone really paying attention to us. At least it creates a chance to talk to him.” He wrote tick marks on the line he drew, one for today and one for December 5th. “That gives us… Around two months to do this. I mean it’s not very long but-”

   “But we’re the closest we’ve ever been! The closest anyone’s ever been!” 

 

   In the two months leading up to December 5th, Bokuto hardly slept, ate, or even breathed. He lived the research he and Kuroo worked on, staying up late at night to solve the problems they encountered during the day. Often though, when Bokuto finally fell asleep, pencil still poised to write, Kuroo would have to slide the notebook out from under him and correct all the work - even having to redo entire sheets over again. Kenma almost never came to join them, but kept in contact. He told the two about the party plans and, when prompted, gave Bokuto updates on Akaashi’s daily life. 

   While nights were often spent in Kuroo’s attic, days were spent wandering through various parts of the city. Early on they discovered that the sound from the first time would not always work - that different environments called for different sounds to trigger an increase in Frequency. Over time they were able to match up a pattern of random sounds that would fit certain situations, and created a formula to try to predict the next sound. 

 

   “Make sure you stay kinda close to me okay?” 

   “Yeah yeah I know, but he can’t hear me so I’ll be out of earshot.” Kuroo swatted Bokuto’s hand away from his ear and adjusted the earpiece nestled inside. “You gonna be okay?” 

   “Man, I’m kinda nervous. No, I’m pretty nervous. No, I’m hella nervous. No, I’m-”

   “I get it bro, but it’ll be great. Just make sure to repeat the words I say as soon as possible, we need to keep the same atmosphere so we can keep your Number higher and stable.”

   “Y’know, I don’t know if we’re ready. There’s so many people and like it’s only been two months of really working on this, so we should probably wait-”

   “Bokuto, bro, like you said, this is the closest anyone has been to  _ changing Frequency _ . This is revolutionary. What happened to all your excitement?” 

   “I haven’t seen him in years. And, like, what if he doesn’t want to see me? Like he completely shot me down last time we talked. He totally doesn’t wanna see me again and-” 

   “Koutarou shut the fuck up. You’ve worked too hard on this to turn back now, and I definitely won’t let you. Didn’t you want to try to help him?” 

   “But what if Kenma’s right and he doesn’t want help?”

   “Too late to start agreeing with me! Now get your sorry ass over there and talk to him!” Kuroo turned Bokuto around and pushed him in the direction of where Akaashi and Kenma sat talking, making sure to slap his butt for good measure. 

   Bokuto could see Akaashi sitting by the fire pit as soon as he entered the backyard, eyes immediately drawn to him. Akaashi sat facing away from him, towards the fire, glancing Kenma’s way when they spoke. It was the second time Bokuto had seen the other boy outside of his uniform, and it almost sent him reeling back from the memories of that day. But this outfit was even more different than last time they had seen each other. It was casual; just jeans, a grey cardigan, and a cobalt blue scarf that was large enough to drape over his shoulders and swallow his neck so that when he turned to face Kenma his mouth was hidden underneath. 

   With a deep breath he braced himself, taking in the moment before surging in. Knowing that if Akaashi rejected him this time, at least he would have this memory to last. 

   “Ah. Hey, Akaashi. Been a long time, eh?”

   He wanted to slap his forehead after saying it, but Akaashi was already turning to face him, and he swore his heart stopped. He was still the same as he was that day. Same expressionless eyes and mouth set into that firm line. But no, his face had thinned out over the years, skin carving into the hollows of his cheeks, and his complexion had paled from staying inside more often than before.

   Of course none of this took away from Akaashi’s beauty. 

   Bokuto felt a blush creeping onto his cheeks and shyly scratched his neck to distract himself from thinking about anything more. 

   “Happy birthday,” he said lamely. Akaashi didn’t reply immediately, instead letting his eyes drag across Bokuto’s body.

   “Thank you.”

   “How are you?” Bokuto’s nerves were increasing with every passing second.

   “Actual question or a greeting?”

   The question drew an immediate laugh from Bokuto, his mouth stretching into a wide smile. Akaashi remembered something from their youth. He could work with this. 

   “Question.”

   “I’m the same as always.” 

   He made no motion to continue the conversation, but Bokuto was not perturbed. He could hear Kuroo whispering in his ear, guiding him. “I’m not. Y’know, after we graduated I spent a lot of time travelling and learned a lot.”

   “Oh? And where did this travelling take you?”

   “Kinda all over. Places like uh…” Bokuto paused, stumbling over the fictional place Kuroo’s voice was saying, “Chigawa.” 

   “Chigawa? I’ve never heard of it,” Akaashi deadpanned, bored but pretending to be interested. 

   Bokuto stopped, pausing to think his next sentence through. 

   “Yeah it’s like a third world place, it’s not very well known.” He could feel panic rising in his throat. He sent a prayer to the universe that Akaashi would not question any farther. 

   “And what kinds of things did you learn in this Chigawa?” Akaashi asked. There was a tone shift: ever so slightly Keiji had become interested. 

   Bokuto leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I learned how to change my Number.” 

   “But that’s impossible!” Akaashi took a step back to look up at Bokuto’s face. 

   “I can’t explain it all right now,” Kuroo was speaking frantically in his ear now. “Meet me tomorrow at the Saint Cafe at noon - I’ll explain everything there.” 

   “Why should I believe you?” Akaashi asked, sounding almost angry if Koutarou didn’t know any better. “How could you, a 0, do what so many high Frequencies could never do?”

   “I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but you might wanna check your watch, Akaashi.” 

   Bokuto sprinted away. In the distance he heard a glass shatter against the ground, but he knew he had done it. Kuroo waited for him at the front door, leaning against the frame. At the sight of his silver friend running towards him he opened his arms, embracing Bokuto tightly when he jumped into a hug. 

   “Bro, bro! Koutarou, we’ve got this in the bag!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooh! bokuto's story!! that little liar saying he travelled ;)
> 
> hope you enjoyed it! next chapter will be back to after the big chapter four kiss!
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading and giving comments and kudos. theyre the best encouragers.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you have any questions on the AU. it's based on a british indie film called Frequencies if you're interested! the basic plot of the movie was good, but the ending was shit so i'll be changing that mwuahaha
> 
> talk to me about hq @ queenofhearts.co.vu


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